by Cain Noble-Davies
Worth: $17.99
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
George Greenough, Nat Young, Ritchie West
Intro:
Without irony or flattery, this is pure cinema.
It’s easy to take modern camera technology for granted. Consumer-grade and prosumer-grade equipment has never been cheaper, making the tools that allow for the creation of cinema to be available to the layman. The device you’re reading this on right now is likely capable of filming and editing an entire movie, and judging by the works of iPhone wizards Sean Baker, Steven Soderbergh, and Adam Green, it could hold up next to big studio productions.
Crystal Voyager, the 1973 Aussie surf classic (screening at the Sydney Opera House as part of the First Wave program celebrating surf cinema old and new), is an astounding feature to witness in hindsight, especially with the new amazing 4K restoration.
The first chunk of it follows surfer and low-key genius George Greenough as he talks about his passion for all things aquatic, along with the processes behind his specialty camera and sailing equipment. The technical details range from the specialised to the bizarre to the “wait, you spilt what on your foot?!”, but it’s still truly fascinating seeing him cobble all this together from bits in a scrapyard.
This makes the actual surf footage (along with the intoxicating soundtrack from G. Wayne Thomas and the Crystal Voyager Band) hit that much harder because, in just a few minutes, context is given both for his genuine love for the sport and the lengths that he went to for it to even be seen by others. With this crisp remaster, it all looks and sounds phenomenal and does an effective job of translating that feeling of finding the right flow within the waves.
Of course, the technical side of things is just the appetizer; the main course comes with Echoes, the short film shot with Greenough’s home-modded cameras, all set to the classic Pink Floyd song of the same name, which serves as the final reel. The (if you’ll pardon the pun) crystal clarity of 4K adds multitudes to the psychedelic effect of the footage captured. The screen becomes a chaotic snowglobe, where dry land is in a whole other galaxy, waves rise in perpetuity, and the ocean is pure bliss made matter. All shot with a back-mounted camera that literally weighs over one hundred times that of a standard GoPro. Without irony or flattery, this is pure cinema.
Whether you’ve seen this before (likely through one of several potato-quality rips online) or even caught it at its original Opera House premiere, this is an experience worth catching before the tide goes out. Part fascinating look at a DIY legend, part maritime mindfrag, it is art that deserves to be viewed in its new and improved form. The 4K remaster on its own breathes new life into a film that has and will always command respect, but witnessing it with literal operatic acoustics on the big screen makes it that much better. Take a deep breath, and dive in.
